Lucky
by ketchupcomplex
Summary: SxR Ritsuka is at Soubi's birthday party but things just happen to go horribly wrong. Lucky Ritsuka. Rated M for rape, violence, abuse, language, and of course, mansex. You're welcome.
1. Painless

"Hurry up, Ritsuka!" Mom yelled at me from the kitchen. "Your friend's birthday is tomorrow, right? Let's bake him a cake!" Her voice was sing-song and cheerful.

I hopped out the shower and pulled on some pants. I walked downstairs and saw her dancing around the kitchen with eggs, milk, cooking oil, and at least five kinds of batter on the counter. "How'd you know it was _her_ birthday?" I asked, conspicuously putting emphasis on the female pronoun. She'd probably been going through my stuff again.

"I just took a peek at your calendar while you were at school… Soubi doesn't seem like a girl's name, Ritsuka." She eyed me suspiciously. It was my fault for lying about something so petty, but it somehow felt safer that way. If her questions started coming, what would I tell her? _Oh yeah, Soubi's my boyfriend. He goes to university. He has no qualms about dating a minor. Yeah, we're breaking the law._ And then what? Give her a thumbs up? Not a chance.

Thankfully, she let it go. "Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, banana, or coconut? Some people absolutely despise coconut, but at least it's something new. Plus, I thought it was clever how they put little pieces of dried coconut in the batter instead of just making it coconut _flavored_, you know?" I waited patiently for her to finish.

"Thanks for the trouble, Mom, but I don't want to make him a cake. We're going out for his birthday." Her mouth dropped. As soon as I realized what I had done, I wanted to kick my _own_ ass for being so stupid. I blundered up and said _him_ and_ his_, confirming mother's suspicions. And of course, she caught my mistake. She was always looking for things that I said, did, or thought that were "un-Ritsuka-like". Because of course, old Ritsuka never lied. Old Ritsuka would never go running around with some guy. After Seimei left, old Ritsuka was replaced with a cheap, faulty imitation. Sometimes I wondered why I even tried.

"You know," she began, face tight. "My Ritsuka would bake a cake for his friend. He would because it would make his mother happy." Her voice had a dangerous edge to it that was somewhere between rational anger and hysteria.

I began backing away. "Okay, Mom. I'll bake it. Just, sometime later, okay?" I wanted to get away. She was drunk. Again.

"No! Do not try to trick me!" She grabbed a knife from the sink behind her, dripping suds all over the linoleum floor. Just my luck that I forgot to finish washing dishes. She inched toward me as she yelled, "I caught you! I CAUGHT YOU! YOU ARE NOT MY RITSUKA!"

She swung the knife like a madwoman, frantic and afraid. A part of me pitied her. I knew, even without the alcohol and medication, her mind wasn't right. She didn't know what to do. Her paranoia was a nearly unsolvable issue. Not to mention she was abused by her parents as well. Perhaps it was the only way she knew how to be. But as she swung the knife and broke the skin, I found sympathy a bit hard to feel.

I prayed for her to miss just once so it would be one less wound for her to tend to, but I knew she wouldn't. At close proximity, she never missed. Some cuts were shallower than others, sure, but the deep ones hurt unmercifully. I found it odd that she never just stabbed me so I could sit and bleed in peace, but that's the way mother is. She'll eat away at me little by little so it hurts more, little by little until there is nothing left. That's my punishment for not being Ritsuka.

She threw the bloody knife elsewhere and yanked me up from where I was on the floor trying to cover up as much bare skin as possible. My arms and chest and neck, everything on my upper body, lacked the protection of clothing. I cursed myself inwardly. It would have taken two more seconds to put on a shirt! But no, I had wanted to hurry as to not displease mother. One would think I'd have learned my lesson by now. Either way, mother will always be displeased. The thought has come once or twice that it's not the booze or the meds or the mental instability that makes her hate me, it's _me._ Who I am, what I do, the things I say, everything about me is the object of her discontent. I knew it was true, but whenever such a thought made its way to the surface of my mind, I forced it back down.

She threw me against the counter, my ribs giving a slight _crack_. She pushed me against the oven, my lower back hitting the handle hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I fell to the floor in a bundle of cut and bruised flesh, hugging myself tight. My wheezing was a plee to the oxygen around me to grace my lungs once again. She kicked me, screaming "Give him back! Give him back!" I didn't know whether she was talking about Seimei or Ritsuka until she, with an especially hard kick, yelled, "Who are you! Where did you hide my Ritsuka?!" Her voice broke when she said my name, desperation making her fury weaker and sharper simultaneously.

Another kick, this one connecting with my ribs, and she passed out from exhaustion and stress. Just like that. I had made her that upset, I had gotten her blood pressure that high until her suffering brain decided it was too much and shut down. Only then did I begin to cry.

The sobs shook my body, forcing it to feel every sore that was inflicted. That didn't hurt nearly as much as my heart did, though. _Who are you,_ she had said. I wanted to ask her the same thing! Who was I to her? _What_ was I to her? A burden. An affliction. Certainly not a son. For me, when Seimei died, I lost a big brother and gained a psychopathic mother. For her, she had lost two sons and gained a stranger. Not only did she not love me, she didn't even acknowledge my identity and _gods_ did it hurt.

I got up and limped upstairs to wash and tend to my wounds. I had to make haste because I had no clue when mother was going to wake up again. I rinsed out my cuts with hot water. They still bled freely. My arms were stiff, making it nearly impossible to apply bandages. I couldn't reach my back at all, and there was a gash there that could not go unmended.

Reluctantly, I pulled over a shirt, got my keys, and walked to Soubi's apartment. I hoped he wouldn't mind.

By the time I got there I was shivering and shaking with cold. I laughed bitterly. _She must've hit me in the head, too. Why on earth didn't I bring a sweater?_

Soubi's friend opened the door and greeted me. Well, started to at least, until he cut off with a "God, kid. Come on in." He shook his head in a what's-this-world-coming-to way. He called for Soubi.

I walked to his room and sat on his bed. He walked out of the bathroom with bandages and this bubbly stuff that stings like hell when he puts it on my skin. Peroxide or something.

After a good ten minutes of treating me, he still hadn't said a word. His face was too serious. It was making me so nervous! I wanted to apologize, although I wasn't sure for what, and it's not like you can say things like that out of the blue. An apology would seem out of place. I didn't want him angry at me too. He would probably yell at me for getting myself into trouble again. I did not want to be yelled at. Not again. My ears still rang with my mother's voice.

I opened my mouth to speak, hoping to quiet him before he got the chance to scream at me. I didn't mind a misplaced apology. "Soubi, I'm—"I stopped short as he got up and knelt in front of me. I tried not to exclaim as he fumbled with my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them. He beckoned for me to stand, and pulled them down to my ankles.

"Soubi…" I began. He stood and got something from his drawer then turned off the lights.

I could only see his silhouette and hear his footsteps as he shuffled towards me. "Say something," I ordered. He just smiled and held me close, kissing me softly, making sure his touches were light. I could hardly breathe_;_ he was being so gentle. I could feel my skin wanting to jump up, make _real_ contact. His fingers ghosted over me, over every scar and bruise and—

"Soubi!" I jerked away, falling back on the bed. He jumped too, startled by my outburst. I blushed. "Sorry, overreaction." I rubbed the bruise on my back where he had accidentally pressed. He simply smiled in relief, holding what he took out the drawer and pulling it over my head. One of his shirts. I raised my arms to put them through the sleeves, and lifted up so he could straighten it over my lap.

I lied beside him under the covers. "Are you tired?" he asked, wrapping his arms around my bare waist. I nodded. The clock read 11:47 pm.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Do you want me to stay up until midnight? So I can wish you happy birthday?" Even as I said this, I imagined thirteen more minutes of consciousness. It seemed like an eternity.

He chuckled at my reluctance, saying "No, no. You can rest. The day will be there when you wake up." I nodded again, feeling myself slip into sleep. "Ritsuka," he whispered softly, "I love you…"

XXX

I woke up with a start and a headache. My body was stiff. I woke up alone. I considered calling out his name, but abruptly decided against it. I could hear him in the kitchen.

I lied back in bed, closing my eyes. Being alone in the silence is never a good thing with me. All I do is think, think, think. What's wrong with me! I've gotten over my fear of disappearing. The people around me have more than verified my existence. I've gotten over my troubles concerning the love of others; it feels good in a way, the one thing that doesn't hurt too much. But the anxieties that come with loving someone? It's like constantly being on pins and needles.

Perhaps it was the significance of waking up alone. I was with him last night; I know I was. I could practically still feel the warmth, the security. I wanted to call out his name. I wanted him near me and nowhere else. Even though I've grown since we met, I'm still the bratty Ritsuka I was in grade 6, starving for his attention.

I slid out of bed, taking half the covers with me, my head pounding. I brushed my teeth and washed my face mechanically, smoothed out my hair and ears. I tried not to think about the bandage on my face where mother had thrown a well-aimed knife. Nothing big like a butcher's or a bread knife, not even as big as a butter knife. _Paring knife_, I think. Whatever it's called, it sliced through my skin like it was air. I remembered after she "accidentally" did that, she tried putting a Band-Aid on it. I usually protest such things. Mother likes putting the adhesive portion of them directly over the wound so that when I take it off, it reopens and begins to bleed. I exhaled.

"You're up," I heard Soubi say. He came to stand by me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I noted with pride that I grew taller. He no longer had to bend over so much to hug me, and his chin could rest on my head without strain. He set his head on mine, right between my ears, sliding cold hands underneath the shirt to stroke my tail.

"Soubi! Cut it out, I'm not wearing pants!" I exclaimed at the gesture, blushing furiously. He simply chuckled, still holding me close.

"I noticed," he smiled, running his hands down the entire length of my tail as I swung it back and forth in his hands subconsciously. He chuckled as I hissed and swatted warningly at a hand trailing up my inner thigh.

To set the record straight, people don't usually touch another's ears and tail. It is just bad manners, like grabbing a woman's breasts without permission. Ears and tails are intimate, a visible secret between you and yourself, but Soubi doesn't care. An adult wouldn't understand, especially one like him who had lost his ears so long ago. Regardless, I let his hands roam wherever they liked. Well, not _wherever_ wherever.

"Hey," I said quietly as he trailed hot kisses down my neck. I turned, asking what time it was, trying to get a better look at the clock and– "Soubi! YOU IDIOT!" He drew back and followed my eyes to the clock. It read 8:17. PM. "Why didn't you wake me up, baka!"

"Oh, that. " He leaned on the doorframe calmly and lit a cigarette. "You were just so cute and peaceful-looking. I couldn't wake you up. Plus, the party starts at nine. You're fine."

I was slightly grateful he let me sleep in. My sores did feel quite a deal better. Besides the awful headache, I felt much better. Rested. Wait, what? "Party?"

He nodded. "Kio is throwing me a party. Where did you think we were going?"

Immediately I felt foolish. I'd thought that Soubi and I were going somewhere alone. I suppose the concept of Soubi hanging out with friends wasn't settled in just yet. I supposed friends were necessary in a way, for regular people. Soubi was the farthest from ordinary, though. _You're all I need_, he would say. Well, whatever.

"Ritsuka," he said, looking at me sideways. "What are you going to wear?"

I hated unnecessary questions. "Well, not this," I responded, sore and irritated. I rummaged through his medicine cabinet to find aspirin, then took three, swallowing them dry. "I'm going home to get something to wear," I said, pulling on yesterday's blood-stained jeans. "Don't come."


	2. Senseless

He was _gorgeous_. Skintight black leather pants with dark green lace, an unnecessary belt hanging lazily on his hips, shifting with ever step. An impossibly small top comfortably resting just two inches above his waist, once again with green crisscrossed lace everywhere his skin showed, everywhere but the sides. Alternating black and green bracelets skillfully set on his wrists. A black choker complemented his elegant neck with a green butterfly to the side. The whole outfit was perfect to say the least, showing enough skin to be provocative but not suggestive, hugging the skin tight enough to display how slender he was, but in all the right places to show he was most certainly not a child. Not to mention the way the leather accentuated the subtle curve of his hips. So yes, he was gorgeous. But as he stood in front of me, picking at a bandage on his cheek absent mindedly, I noticed one thing above all others: Ritsuka was unbearably hot and didn't even notice. He didn't stand with his hips jutted out to the side teasingly, or lick his lips suggestively like some women shamelessly do when I catch his eye. Instead, he stood straight as a stick, one arm stuck awkwardly behind him and the other busy scratching at that bandage. He was totally oblivious to the fact that he was lovely, and for some reason that cluelessness made him all the sexier.

"Soubi," he said, looking at me from the side, speaking quietly so that only I could hear. "Soubi, everyone's staring at me."

I looked around and smiled. He was right. The whole room had almost completely turned when the two of us walked in. It was only for a moment then until the attention switched to me, but now that all the happy birthdays were dished out, people were free to shift their attention back to Ritsuka. Men and women alike were staring unabashedly.

I wondered if Ritsuka was used to this. It was normal for him, I supposed, to feel a tad bit out of place. Everyone there at the party was a university student and he was barely a high school student, yet he was getting these… looks. Perhaps he didn't know how to interpret them. I wondered if letting him come was a good idea or not, but what would my birthday be without him? I took his hand and led him toward the kitchen.

"Let's find Kio."

He didn't resist as we bustled through the crowd, his hand in mine, making a beeline for Kio's kitchen. There was sure to be no one there. He hates when people skulk around while he's trying to cook.

As soon as I opened the door, my senses were filled with pure ecstasy. I instantly recognized all of my favorite foods. I wasn't hungry, though. I glanced back at Ritsuka who was watching Kio busily prepare food for everyone.

"Soubi, I'm thirsty," he said as he turned to leave. "I'll find you later. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone," he said warningly.

As he walked away, I reached out for his arm and pulled him to me, giving him an open-mouthed kiss. "Is that an order, Ritsuka?" I smiled.

He blushed and mumbled, "I'll be right back."

I turned to an irritated looking Kio. He opened his mouth to speak.

"If my cake falls because of you, birthday boy or not, I'll kill you."

"It couldn't possibly fall with all the love you stuffed into it, right?" I retorted, smirking. He smiled back, walking up to give me a tight hug. It was nice, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, his head resting comfortably on my chest. He was mumbling something incoherent.

"Kio?" I pulled him away and was met with a tear-stained face. "Don't tell me you're getting all emotional. I'm only one more year older."

He looked puzzled. "What? No," he said. "It's just…" he sniffled and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "It's just that you're so much warmer."

I stared at him, slightly confused. He chuckled and clarified. "Happier, I mean. I'm really glad. You're much happier."

When I simply stood there, not knowing what to say, he turned back to tend to the food. He opened the oven and stuck a fork in the cake, seeing if it was done. "Hey Sou-chan," he said. "I can't believe it, can you?"

"Hm? Believe what?" I inquired.

"That kid," he continued. "He looks like a fucking demigod. Who knew he had it in him? Now that he's older, I think it's okay for me to say this—"

"Watch it, Kio."

"What? It's information solely for your benefit."

"No thanks, Kio."

"Okay…" He mumbled quickly, trying to get it all out before I could interrupt him. "I was just going to say that with a body like that he could go on for hours not to mention his long legs that could most likely inspire the destruction of the pyramids and make even pharaohs give up the afterlife in exchange for a few minutes in a dark room with him alright so cake's done!" He quickly wrapped it up and turned away.

"Pyramids and pharaohs, eh?" It was amusing the analogies he came up with.

"Fine, ignore that part. But seriously, Sou-chan." He turned to face me as he spoke. "Young plus drop-dead sexy equals fun. If you train him right, just imagine the stamina he'd build." He started nodding in content agreement with himself, speaking in a very matter of fact tone. "Yep, Sou-chan. Hours and hours of fun."

"Hey," I grinned at his shamelessness, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "I already know that."

"Wait a second... You didn't—but—his ears are—you couldn't—" he sputtered, eyes as big as saucers.

"No, I didn't Kio."

"Don't lie to me you bastard!"

"Stop yelling, Kio. I'm not lying. You saw his ears."

"They could be fake! They sell those now, you know."

"I doubt they would produce ones to match his hair color so dead-on, right? It's like, black-purple. No one else is like that."

He ignored me. "I wouldn't put it beneath you if you did take them, you filthy pervert! If you need someone to have your way with, I'm available any time, but not the kid! He's young and innocent and sexy and innocent!"

"I'm not a pervert, Kio," I stated, cutting his monologue short. He just sort looked at me for a while, then turned back to cooking.

"On any note," he said. "He's been gone for quite a bit. I'd go see if he ran into any trouble if I were you."

I chuckled nervously. "Why would he get into trouble?" It didn't add up, what he was saying. It was a birthday party, not a dance club. "This is your place, Kio. Everyone respects you. No one would try anything."

He turned around, shooting me a look of disbelief. "Naivety must be contagious. Don't be an idiot, go look for him!" I didn't understand his urgency.

He all but shoved me out of the door. I didn't have the mind to argue.

XXX

After combing through the crowd for a few minutes, _then_ I felt it. Certain experiences are impossible to explain, like attempting to tell of color to a person who has never experienced sight. It's something up close and personal. I heard him call my name, but there was no actual sound. It was more like… a sort of pang at my heart. His desperation made me feel thinner and panicked, made my heart race. I was excited, thrilled even! Every emotion my sacrifice wanted to convey to me resounded clearly in my heart, forming a coherent message. To be connected: it's surreal in the most satisfying of ways.

I placed my hand on the knob of one of Kio's doors and felt the same pang again screaming, "Correct!" I burst through the door—was it locked? It didn't resist much—and saw the source of my master's distress.

Or… I thought I did. For a split second, I thought I did see it. But it passed, submitted to the image of him sitting on the bed. I found it odd that his shirt was off, and there was a thin sheet of sweat covering him for some reason. He was shaking.

"Hey, Soubi!" He extended his arms to me and beckoned me closer. He pulled me into a kiss, roughly plunging his tongue into my mouth. Finally Ritsuka was showing the aggression I knew he was capable of. But I'll admit, it was a bit sudden. I wondered what was up…

While I was distracted with my thoughts, Ritsuka so boldly wrapped his legs tightly around my waist and began grinding, making the kiss deeper. "Soubi…" he moaned, splaying out his fingers to yank my shirt over my head. I could swear his voice set fire to my veins, sent chills down my spine. I sucked on his neck just where I knew it would drive him wild, the sensitive place directly where his shoulders meet, and he rewarded me by digging his fingers painfully into my shoulders, moaning louder, hips undulating with even more force.

"Soubi, please," he breathed, pushing me away and over to my back. He was on top of me in a matter of seconds, fumbling with my pants and rocking hard on my lap in slow, deep thrusts. When he at last managed to unbutton and unzip my pants, I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. I didn't want him to know how much I was enjoying this.

He smiled. "Do you like it, Soubi?" His smile only grew wider as he elicited a lengthy moan. I couldn't help it! His hands had found their way inside my jeans and around my impossibly hard member, giving it firm pumps in time with his thrusts.

I couldn't let him continue. Wouldn't let him continue. I would never let him be tainted in such a way.

But those thoughts were only on one side of my mind. The other was preoccupied with how unbelievably satisfying Ritsuka's ministrations felt. It was like the ultimate battle between good and evil raging in my cerebral cortex, and poor me was just sort of there, waiting for one side to win.

Luckily, I didn't have to make a choice. Ritsuka's movements stopped on it's own accord. He pulled his fingers away and licked them, sucked them, one by one, which may or may not have been the most erotic sight I've ever beheld. Ever.

He reached the last digit still dripping with my precum and paused. He leaned forward, that ever-present smile still plastered on his face, and offered his pinky to me.

For the oddest reason, my body refused to move. In my mind I had already given into his teasing, but in actuality I was just staring at him. He shrugged as if to say "suit yourself," and continued to snack on the delight. He made loud, suggestive sucking sounds and moans, and when he was done, he pulled out his finger in such a way that it made an obscene _pop_ noise. He grinned wider at that.

He leaned forward into a kiss again, this time softer but just as urgent. His lips moved gracefully against mine. His tongue played with mine slowly, every once in a while retreating to lick his moist lips, or pulling back to make room so he could nip at mine.

After a while, he pulled away, wiping the corners of his mouth where saliva had accumulated, panting wildly. He had to catch his breath before he spoke.

"Soubi," he breathed, voice dripping with pure and unhidden lust tinged with something alien to my ears. "Soubi please," he continued, lying flush on top of me, our sweaty skin sticking to each other in a mess of heat and moisture. His legs were wide apart, creating subtle friction between the two of us as he barely, just _barely,_ rolled his hips against mine.

It took him to start nibbling on my earlobe where he pierced me—a place he knew as a tried-and-true fact could turn me as compliant as a wet noodle—for me to realize where he was going with this.

I grabbed hold of his hips and lifted him off me, him still smiling.

"Ritsuka, what are you doing?" I asked.

One of his ears twitched as his grin turned cold. "Don't ask foolish questions," he spit out at me like venom. "I thought you'd get the hint. I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Take my ears, because I don't want them anymore. Think of it as your birthday present."

And with that he said nothing else.

He lied on his back submissively, legs sprawled apart and arms over his head. His breathing was irregular, eyes hazed over. "Well. Go on," he said plainly.

"It will hurt," I warned.

"Good." That smile again, this one heavy and bitter. "Go ahead and hurt me. Tear me apart."

He looked up into my eyes, all defiance and lust and aggression. "Soubi," he finished. "That's an order."


	3. Careless

A/N: Before you read, please note that this chapter contains more or less graphic content. It is rated M for a reason. Don't read if there is any potential of my story being offensive. Offending is not my intent. Also, language warning. Oh yeah, and Yun Kouga owns Loveless, not me, but whatever. Enjoy.

* * *

I was serious. Dead fucking serious, and the son of a bitch laughed. My eyes narrowed as I stared at him. "Hey there, jerk, I wasn't joking."

The laughing continued. I wanted to punch him, kick him, get his attention. There's no way I could without injuring him, though, because that's what punching and kicking is for. Hurting people. I don't hurt people. I stayed still.

"That was really cute," he said. "But you can't possibly be for real. You're fifteen."

I rolled my eyes. "This is becoming more troublesome than it's worth. Fuck me or I'll find someone who will. Four people outside already more or less asked. You should know firsthand that university students have nothing against casual sex."

He knew I wouldn't. _I_ knew I wouldn't. What was I saying? There was a nagging want in the back of my mind that wasn't there this morning or this evening or before—

"Judging by how long it took for you to let me even kiss you, I'd say you wouldn't let anyone touch you, nevertheless fuck y—"

"Why are you being so difficult!" I screamed before I could stop myself. Soubi was taken aback, mouth agape in the interrupted formation of words, just blinking at me. My head was spinning. "Forget it forget it forget it!" I yelled even louder. I sounded like a madman. I could swear my words were coming from someone else's mouth.

"Okay, Ritsuka, okay. Just calm down," he told me, forever the serene adult. Forever mellow. Forever in control. And what the hell did I control? Not even Soubi was listening to me. Of course not! I wasn't even his real master. Soubi still belongs to _him_. Nothing is mine! Everything belongs to—

I got up from the bed, suddenly disgusted by the thought of _him_, but my headache wouldn't allow it. It felt like someone had hit me in the back of the head with a brick. I lurched forward to catch my balance, but my legs felt like jello. They gave way without a fight, my knees buckling. I hit the floor with a harsh thud. I would have acknowledged how badly that hurt my shoulder were my head not screaming.

No. Screaming was the wrong word. _Blaring._ A thousand sirens were blaring inside my head. I curled in on myself and covered my ears, just on the off chance that the sirens were from outside or something. When they didn't stop I moaned quietly in frustration. I couldn't hear it, but I could feel the vibration in my throat. Even such a soft note felt like my throat was being ripped out. My body was trembling in a way I didn't know was possible.

Then my head went silent, so I did too, save for my heavy panting. I just sort of lied there, still trembling, thinking "well that was weird." I tried to get up but couldn't. I felt like I was about to throw up my heart, as disgusting as that sounds.

Relentlessly nagging, a different force pulled at me now. It was fuzzy and white and far off, calling me to close my eyes. Sleep? Okay. I wasn't tired per se, but sleep never hurt anyone. I closed my eyes and submitted to the whiteness calling to me.

_XflashXbackX_

"Ritsuka!" I heard someone yell at me as I pushed through the crowd, making my way back to the kitchen with a glass of water one of Kio's friends gave me. I halted, and turned around, scowling. Who knew me well enough to call me in such a friendly tone? Yuiko surely wasn't here, and it wasn't Soubi's voice. I wasn't interested in befriending anyone at the moment, especially in an environment like this.

There was a reason to my antisocial behavior. I was still sore, and my headache had only worsened with the loud music. The aspirin I took churned in my stomach uncomfortably, but did not do a thing for the pain. Maybe three pills were too much.

I turned to meet them, the stranger waving coolly in the dim light, his curly hair bouncing with each step as he approached me… "Seimei?!"

He smiled and stood close. I was almost his height with just an inch or two to go. That made me smile, but it faded as I saw him lean closer. "What are you doing here?" he said, trying to speak over the loud music and buzzing conversations.

"I was just getting something to drink," I responded, holding up my glass of water to show him. I knew he didn't mean what I was doing at the moment, but what was I doing at a party full of half-drunk university students. Well, some full drunk.

He took the cup from me and shook it slightly. It fizzed and bubbled, oddly enough. Maybe it was carbonated water instead of plain water. Seimei plastered a disgusted look on his face and wrinkled his nose. "Don't drink from open glasses just lying around like that," he said, staring at the red and white plastic cup as if it were Persephone herself in Christmas getup here to burn crops and kill children. I decided not to tell him that it wasn't 'just lying around'; one of the guys gave it to me. He seemed displeased enough. I looked at it, then up at him, then back down to the cup. I didn't see the same evil he did.

He set it down nearby and smiled, handing me a water bottle. "Here, take this." I unscrewed the cap and took a gulp and, well, my throat caught fire. Not the regular candle type of fire that's dangerous but still moderately tame, the chemically induced, impossibly hot type of fire that burns bright blue and white. The so-called "water" (which I had reason to believe was actually gasoline) slid down my throat and incinerated every inch of my mouth it reached.

"Seimei, what the hell was that?!" I asked between coughs. Holding up the bottle to the dim light in the room, I could see the water was disconcertingly chalky. He got an expression of hurt on his face when I gave the bottle back.

"It's vitamin-packed mineral water. You don't like it?"

I sputtered nervously, trying to reassure him that I didn't not like it. He leaned in close and spoke directly in my ear, music blaring around his voice.

"I can hardly hear you, Ritsuka. Come on, let's go out back and talk."

He walked me back where the crowd started to thin a bit. I knew which way we were going even if he didn't (I'd been at Kio's house many times visiting with Soubi), but the question was did I want to follow, and more or less did I have a choice. A warning in the back of my mind insisted that I not be alone in a room with Seimei.

My thoughts drifted fluidly from panic to anger. _Fate is one sadistic son of a bitch_, I thought. _Perhaps that's why he works so heavily in my brother's favor. They are cut from the same cloth._

I knew where he was leading me. Back to one of the rooms. The dark, empty, private rooms in Kio's house. I logically deduced that I was, in a word, screwed. The scene played out clearly in my head like a movie on a wide-screen plasma television:

Seimei would lead me into a room.

Seimei would oh-so innocently tell me to take a seat on the bed. To relax. Take my shoes off. Lay down and take a break with him. Just like before, he would… he would—

"Hey, big brother!" I said, hoping he wouldn't hear my uneasiness. "Let's go out back to the patio instead. "There's only a few people there, and the stars are beautiful! Remember we'd always stargaze when I was little?"

His voice turned cold. "You're older now, Ritsuka. Forget about the things you did when you were younger. Grow the hell up."

I mentally took a step back, my cheeks burning with shock. He was being much harsher than usual. His odd behavior made me agitated.

"And plus!" he said, opening the door to one of Kio's bedrooms. Ironically, it was the one I always slept in when I needed a place to get away from mother. It held painful memories. "You would probably get bored," he continued, flicking on the bedside lamp. "You'd be bored and, since it's September, fairly cold. Sorry I don't have another jacket." He smiled and beckoned me to sit, so I did.

I couldn't tell him that he was wrong about me getting bored, that Soubi and I stargazed all the time late at night, that I found it to be the most relaxing thing to feel so insignificant, falling asleep in Soubi's arms as far-off celestial beings danced above us. No, I had a feeling that if I mentioned Soubi, things would turn for the worst.

"Lay down," he said suddenly, interrupting my calm thoughts. I didn't have time to disobey as he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down, sitting on my thighs. His hands felt rough and calloused against my skin. I made a motion to get up, but he wouldn't allow it, holding me firmly in place with one hand and removing my pants with the other. Great day to opt out of underwear, yet _another_ bad habit picked up from Soubi.

I waited patiently as he pulled off my pants, just sort of lied there. It's the same as with mom: Just sit and wait until it's over. That's all you _can_ do. _I'm used to it, _I told myself. _It doesn't hurt or anything. Not saying it's right when he does this, but he _is_ always gentle so… I suppose it's okay._

I rationalized this way in my mind until I saw him unzipping and removing his pants too, carefully folding them and placing them on the dresser.

"Seimei?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed. I willed my body to move away from him, but it didn't obey. He easily turned my limp body over to my stomach and hovered over me and—

"Ah!" I choked out as he pushed into me forcefully, fully sheathing himself in one brutal thrust. I clawed at a pillow lying somewhere nearby to distract me from the pain. It didn't work. It was so _vivid, _a pain I had never experienced before. I begged for him to stop, or slow down, or give me a minute to adapt or something, _anything_.

He pulled out all the way and slammed into me again, hitting something deep inside myself that made me clench my teeth and made my head spin. A strangled cry escaped my throat as he pushed harder against it, making my muscles tighten around him. I could hear him gasp and moan as he worked himself in and out of me, his movements erratic and needy.

To my surprise he stopped and flipped me back over. I closed my eyes and turned away, not wanting to see him or for him to see me, not wanting to be there, not wanting to accept the fact that it was my brother doing this to me.

I heard him moving on the bed again. He grabbed my knees and pushed them to my chest, simultaneously spreading them apart and positioning himself to enter me once again. My eyes shot open to stare at him. I felt stupid for thinking it'd be over. He is, after all, his mother's child. Killing me little by little, never quick. Of course.

It hurt my heart in a way unlike Misaki hurt it. He always protected me. He actually loved me and accepted me, but why this? Did I make him angry somehow? I was willing to apologize about the drink, or about being at an adult party, or about whatever else I could've possibly done to deserve this. I stared up at him, thick tears welling up in my eyes. "Nii-chan, please… don't…"

He smiled sickeningly, making my heart wrench. How could he possibly pretend to be kind after _this_?

He entered me again no less roughly than before, if not even more so, panting and sweating and moaning in a way that made my stomach churn. The room reeked of sex and body heat. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out, just a rush of air. I couldn't stop shaking.

Tears streamed down my face freely, searing further already burning cheeks. My whole body was being smoldered by anger and shame as he clawed at my hips, gripping desperately. His movements didn't cease urgency until I felt his body stiffen. He came inside me, hot and violent and wet.

He sat up and just stared at me. I must have looked pathetic with my inaudible sobs and messed up hair. I looked up and boldly met his eyes. The look he gave me wasn't sadistically satisfied like I thought it'd be. He looked put off, as if _I _were the one who had offended _him_.

I opened my mouth to speak, my voice small. "Seimei, I'm sorry. I don't understand."

He snorted and stood, reapplying his clothing. He walked out of the room without a word, slamming the door behind him. I didn't need to look down to know I was bleeding, but I did anyway.

"What?!" I gasped as I saw my erection standing at full attention, plain as day. Nothing about what had just happened was exciting. _Nothing._ It was dirty and wrong and painful and humiliating! So then why?

I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, turning the shower water on as hot as it would allow and stood there, crying and scrubbing at every inch of my skin. I watched all my bandages fall to the floor. I felt my hair get in my eyes as my skin steamed. I cried harder.

After a bit I stopped scrubbing, turned off the water, dried off. I put my pants back on. I fixed my hair. I sat back down. My movements felt robotic and unnatural.

"Soubi," I called to the dim, open air.

I sat, not completely still, shifting uncomfortably every once in a while. My ass sort of hurt. Wait, no no no. That's an understatement. It stung like _hell_. I shifted again, the leather of my jeans rubbing against my skin. No seriously.

Soubi burst through the door, and I tried my hardest to wipe the grimace off of my face. I patiently waited for him to come over, extending my arms and calling out to him. When our skin made contact, it was repulsive. I became aware of everything, every molecule of filth my body possessed. Our kiss didn't feel like a kiss, just a touching of the lips and wrestling of tongues. I didn't care.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and began grinding in earnest. It felt good somewhere in the back of my mind, but I needed more. The perfect counter to the slime would be spending the night with Soubi, the one I love, instead of being… instead of having someone like _him_ come along and… and—

I put more effort in my movements as I inadvertently remembered something I forgot to forget. I nibbled on his earlobe where I'd pierced him long ago. I remembered how I'd blushed, how scared I was that I had hurt him. He had just gritted his teeth and bore it. I was the weak one.

I knitted my fingers roughly in his hair and kissed him deeper, needing him to be compliant and out of control just this once. He looked up and, much to my annoyance, pushed me away, speaking as though he had discovered something new.

"Ritsuka." Something boiled dark crimson in my heart at the sound of my name. _No,_ I thought. _I'm not Ritsuka. Not right now. I don't want to be. Ritsuka is in pain again, and I'm tired of it! I'll be someone else, someone not so easily hurt._

His voice broke through my thinking. "What are you doing?"

I don't know what I said. I went through a rainbow of emotions and opened my mouth, trusting it to form words to convey those feelings.

There was the beginning of a hell of a headache forming in my head again. It pulsed and throbbed and blocked out even the sound of my own voice.

"Think of it as your birthday present," I felt myself say as whatever controlled my body lied back, making me open and ferociously vulnerable.

The look of uncertainty on Soubi was almost intoxicating. I shifted seductively, spreading my legs farther still as he leaned over me. I bit my lip and tried my hardest to breathe evenly. I no longer remembered my pain or shame or anger; my lust controlled me completely, and I let it. I turned my head to the side ever so slightly, my subtle movements reeking of apathy and unabashed desire. "Soubi," I slurred lazily. I pulled him to me and pressed our bodies closer and closer until I could feel him clear against me. "Tear me apart," I whispered in his ear, demanding him and therefore reassuring him. He hesitated and looked up at me, and I smiled, cold as ice. "That's an order."

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A/N: I apologize if the story is confusing; it'll clear itself out soon (possibly, I don't know for sure.) About the next chapter, I have no clue what it'll consist of. I'm just as surprised at the turn of these things as the reader is. Maybe I should start doing a bit of planning. Um... I'll try to get number four here as soon as possible, but seriously. Writing stories is like childbirth. It has to develop and soak in fluids until it's ready to come out. Reviews and constructive criticism are super welcome. Reading them is like a jolt of euphoria injected into my eyes sockets. Thank you in advance! _-KC_


	4. Blameless

Okay guys. This is Kio's POV, which was kinda a cop-out. I ran out of time before I could make it as good as I'd have liked. However, I tried my best. I'll be going to my other parent's house for a month or so, so unless they get the net on their computer, I'm not gonna be posting stories until I get back. I will, however, be writing like a friggin maniac. You're welcome. I'll have the next chapter when I get back, guaranteed. Really sorry. Gah I feel horrible, like neglecting a child or something. I really _really_ am sorry. Hope it's satisfactory. Also, thank you to those who gave positive reviews. It really does fuel me up (hint hint, give me more!) and make me want to write with enthusiasm. Cuz in all seriousness, I was going to blow chapter four off until July... Enjoy.

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I couldn't say I was surprised when Sou-chan came back to my kitchen with the kid passed out in his arms. I felt a bit responsible, on account of I was the host and anything that went on did so under my roof.

I helped Soubi open the door, trying to wipe off the grim expression on my face. I was imagining the worst and imagining it was my fault, a combination of thoughts collaborating into one hectic emotion: _Guilt._ "What happened?" I asked, only half-wanting to know.

"I don't know, but I have a theory," Soubi mumbled. He was working on setting the boy on the counter. I moved spices and whatnot out of the way for him to lay down. It really wasn't a very practical place. Ritsuka wasn't fun-sized anymore, and took up the whole counter space and then some. His head was hazardously close to the hot stovetop.

"Perhaps we should go to a guest room and set him down," I offered, extending my arms to get him up.

"I just came from there," Soubi retorted coldly.

His words sent a pang to my heart, a quick but deadly current of panic, as I imagined what that comment entailed. "Kio…" he began, but I cut him short. I didn't want to hear whatever he had to say at the moment.

"Tell me when we get to the room," I said simply, holding the door open. His mouth twisted in frustration, but otherwise said nothing. He tucked the kid's head closer to his chest and eased through the crowd to the back rooms, not once taking his eyes off of him. Ritsuka's head rested comfortably on his shoulder, his legs drooping to Sou-chan's sides. His breath was shallow and peaceful, completely oblivious to the noise around him. Truly like a child. Soubi patted and stroked his hair as we walked, exuberating affection. I could count on one hand how many times he displayed such gentleness, and most of the times were when he was drunk.

When Soubi set him on the bed, the kid squirmed and opened his eyes. My heart almost jumped through my chest! I hadn't expected him to be conscious so soon; the movement was too sudden.

"Kio! Hey!" He waved at me where I was seated at the foot of the bed, and smiled. Soubi reached forward to steady him as he rose to his knees and stumbled to me. "I feel funny, Kio-kun," he slurred. I glanced over to Soubi and was returned with a calm but perplexed expression. I was confused too. Why was he talking to me when Sou-chan was in the room? I mean, it's not as if we weren't friends in a way, but Soubi was his _boyfriend._ Why was he telling me?

He sat opposite of me, his back turned to Soubi, and cocked his head to the side. "Kio-kun, don't look at me that way. It makes me feel bad," he said, his voice small…

I panicked. Look at him like _what?_ Maybe the intense worry and discomfort I was feeling showed on my face accidentally. I tried to smile. He just shook his head and burrowed his head between his knees and chest, pulling them up close to him and wrapping his arms around his legs. "Tell Soubi to go away," he said, still not looking up. "Tell him I order him to leave now."

I tore my eyes from the kid and tried to mouth for Soubi to stay and help, but he was already through the door. When the door clicked shut, only then did Ritsuka look up at me. His face was tear-stained, his lips trembling. My heart gave an uncomfortable tug at the sight. I was used to him scowling or frowning or glaring, but crying was a novelty. I reached out to pat his knee in comfort, but he cringed away. "Don't touch me!" he blurted. Immediately he covered his mouth, still scooting away.

His eyes were wild with terror, a violet-tinted mirror of my own. I sat perfectly still. I figured that any sudden movement would set him off again, kind of like rattlesnakes.

Only a foot or two away, Ritsuka was combing his fingers through his hair, breathing through his mouth to calm himself down. He patted on his cheeks and took another breath, sucking in and blowing air back out loudly. "Okay," he began. "I think I'm slightly intoxicated," he said simply. He smiled and rubbed the circles under his eyes. When I said nothing he stopped, leaning forward and saying, "Didn't you want to know what was wrong with me?"

I nodded. "You heard us?" I asked. I could've sworn he was asleep.

"I was in half-slumber. Couldn't go to sleep completely." He tapped his head. "Brain wouldn't let me." He leaned even more, his eyes hazing over again. "Well… go ahead and ask. Then you can report it back to your little friend." _Ouch,_ I thought. He was being pretty cold to Soubi. I decided that that was most important, so I asked about it first.

"Did Soubi do something to make you mad? Did he hurt you?" The questions sounded silly even as they came out of my mouth. Of course Soubi hadn't done anything. Soubi would rather cut off a limb than see Ritsuka in harm. He laughed, a tinge of hysteria slipping into the sound.

"Of course not! He loves me. He would never even _dream_ of hurting me."

"Then why aren't you speaking to him about this? Not to be harsh, kid, but we're not exactly peas in a pod. That's you and Soubi."

He nodded in agreement, confusing me even more. "Yes. I'm not talking to him because he loves me and would never dream of hurting me," he said softly. I finally understood why he was so insistent on pushing him away. Something had happened, something too terrible to tell even Soubi.

He hid his face again and waited for me to say something. "So…," I attempted. "Someone else hurt you, but not just anyone. Someone that you couldn't tell Soubi about." He nodded in affirmation. "Someone he knows?" Another nod. I thought hard for a second. It seemed like we were getting nowhere. My questions needed to be more pointed. I lined up the information so far and matched it to the people he knew. For just this once I was grateful that Ritsuka was choosy about his friends, leaving him with only a handful. Friends that Soubi knew narrowed down the list even more. Friends that would not be noticed at a party full of university students…

As the conclusion finally clicked into place, a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. _Him._ I bristled at the thought of that man being in my home uninvited. I would have to scrub the floors and walls and disinfect the air. I couldn't keep the hatred for the child's brother out of my voice, although I honestly didn't really try. "What did he do to you?"

Ritsuka looked up in horror at my livid expression. "I won't tell you if you're going to tell Soubi," he said stubbornly.

But even as he said this, his eyes were pleading. He was desperate for me to comply so that he could get it over with. Heartlessly, I took advantage of that desire. "It's me or him, and I'm sure you'd prefer telling me. Depending on what it is, I may or may not tell Sou-chan, but I'm not promising jack."

He stared wordlessly, and I stared back. _Two can play the Stubborn Teenager game_, I thought. But then, unexpectedly, tears welled in his eyes. He sputtered incoherently through sobs, clenching his teeth in frustration.

"He'll be angry too! How can you not get that? Why don't you understand?! He— ugh!" Ritsuka moved to stand up, but swayed back onto the bed. He put his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth. He collected himself again, making his body into a tight ball. He rocked himself back and forth while he spoke. His voice was more child-like than I'd ever heard it. "Nii-san hurt me, Kio. I don't know what to do." He wrapped his arms around himself as if trying to keep his heart from falling out of his chest and shattering on the floor into little pieces. "I can't tell Soubi. I _can't_. He'll be so angry! It was all my stupid fault. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. _I trusted him! _How _could_ he? I thought he _loved_ me! Even after everything, I still believed that. How naïve can I get?"

As he spoke, he kept his back to me, not once looking up. Finally I understood why he couldn't tell Sou-chan. I felt cruel at once. My heart gave another painful tug, and I embraced it as a well-deserved punishment. I reached out to hold Ritsuka, and instead of cringing away again he collapsed in my arms, violent but quiet sobs reverberating through his body. Even matched against his 12-year-old self, never had he seemed so fragile. In my arms he felt as though he would break apart at any moment on a whim.

I wasn't exactly experienced in being tender or loving. I patted his hair as I had seen Soubi do, and tried my best to sound gentle. I made myself whisper as quietly as possible. "Are you ashamed of whatever happened, kid?" It was the most delicate way I found to put it, but still the child cringed. After a moment of stillness, he nodded faintly.

I'd known Ritsuka long enough to confirm one thing about him. He was the most blunt, straightforward little one I knew. For something to cause silence in him, to cause indignity so thick that he couldn't say what was on his mind to _Soubi_ of all people… that something must have been pretty awful.

Still, as I thought this, I knew I was going to tell Soubi that _he_ had hurt him. Not to betray Ritsuka, but to avenge him. For breaking the child this way, I wanted that man to be ripped from limb to limb. I loathed Aoyagi Seimei even deeper from the bottom of my heart now. From the pit of my _soul._ Such a vile snake shouldn't have be allowed to walk the earth for so long. Soubi wasn't violent by nature, but he would definitely give that Aoyagi brat what was coming to him.

Speaking of the devil, Soubi burst through the room. In three strides of his long legs he was at the foot of the bed, leaning over and yanking Ritsuka up on his feet. "We're leaving. I'll call you later, Kio," he was saying.

He all but dragged him out of the room. I didn't have the nerve to protest. It'd been a while since I'd seen Sou-chan in such a foul mood. He practically radiated fury, making the morose atmosphere of the room electric and thick. Perhaps little Ritsuka was right. _I can't tell Soubi. He'll be so angry..._

I knew Soubi would never hurt Ritsuka, but I couldn't help but be worried.


	5. Lifeless

Okay, so excuse the vulgarity, but while writing this I had _the_ closest thing I have ever had to an erection in my life. Now, me being a girl, that's saying something. Technically, I can't... you know... but I felt something nevertheless. When I say this, it does **not** mean that this chapter has any type of X-rated content. I'm just weird. Now, regardless of this sad fact, this chapter may quite possibly be my favorite. I love it like I love Pringles and oh my do I love Pringles. Better yet, I love it like I love Stephanie Meyer. Enough said. Go ahead and read it and see why :) Why I love the chapter not Stephanie covered in Pringles... Oh and please, before reading this chapter, take a few minutes to read the others. It will make a _lot_ more sense. There are quite a few references, I do believe. Enjoy!

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After dragging me all the way down the street like some kind of damn rag doll, he plopped me down on his bed. He crouched in front of me, sucking in a breath through his nose and blowing it roughly out of his mouth. His eyes were clenched tightly closed behind his glasses. He took another deep breath and opened them, looking straight into my own.

"Okay," he said slowly. "What do you want me to do?"

I rolled my eyes, exaggerated antipathy rolling over me and making me shudder. "Unbelievable. _Now_ you want to listen to me? Well, you chose not to listen to me when I said leave me the fuck alone, so I guess that's it. Sorry," I spit out, "I don't have any more orders for you at the moment."

He shook his head and kept shaking it as he spoke. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before, Ritsuka." He stopped shaking his head and I saw that he was trembling all over. He closed his eyes again, tighter this time if that was even possible. He spoke through clenched teeth. "Please let me kill him," he said.

The words caught me off guard and my eyebrows lifted. I was thankful that his eyes were still closed so he couldn't see my scowl disappear for those few seconds. I leaned back from him and cocked my head to the side. A sick pleasure spread through me at the thought of him committing murder for little old me, but I forced it down. "Look at me," I said softer, not so much pleased anymore as flattered at his request. He looked up and pain was etched deep into every line of his face. "You will not harm anyone on my behalf," I ordered. That seemed to ease his stress at least a little. He leaned forward and rested his head in my lap, pulling his arms around my waist, and for the first time that night I didn't feel repulsed by his touch. I sighed, stroking his hair as his breathing evened out. It felt good to be relieved of feeling bad.

After a while of us just sitting there, he broke the silence. "Do you want me to take you home?" he asked softly.

"No!" I yelled louder than I meant to. My voice echoed in the dim room and shattered the comfortable quiet, as I yanked myself away, mortified at the thought of going back to my mother. I was in enough pain already. I didn't even want to _think_ about going home to her. She was sure to be furious that I'd been a no-show for almost a full day. "My mom won't be thrilled to see me, exactly," I said in an apologetic tone. "I know I'll have to go home sooner or later, but I'm just not in the mood right now."

He pulled me back into him, making me fall to my knees on the floor in front of him. My bare skin rubbed against the soft cotton of his shirt as he radiated heat. I realized I was shivering still, not quite over the autumn chill. I absolutely _had_ to remember to start bringing a jacket for the next time I ran away from a psychotic parent or the next time I was assaulted by an older brother or the next time my life spiraled down into dark, hopeless nothingness. You know, just in case I was the lucky son of a bitch that something like that happened to twice. I'd taken all the generosity from fate I could stand for the night.

I tried to push Soubi away softly as I stood. I had been mean to him all day—on his birthday for heaven's sake!—and wanted desperately to make it up. With everything that happened, the fact that I was a horrible person on top of that was salt on an open wound. I grabbed his hands and intertwined his fingers with mine as he stood with me, my small palms flat against the center of his. "I want a bath," I ordered simply and softly. I smiled and, thankfully, he smiled back.

He walked to the bathroom and began drawing water into the tub. I just sat on the edge of the bed again, waiting for him to let me know when it was finished. Unfortunately it gave me the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts again, gave me the opportunity to reflect on the last few hours that I was awake. I groaned at the ambush of raw emotion that hit my chest. I hunched in on myself as a sharp pain pierced through my breast, a flawless incision. Sobs wrenched themselves out of my throat against my will.

Submerged from head to toe in despair, I hadn't heard Soubi return. The only notification of his presence was a deep sigh coming from above me right before his soft arms picked me up. He carried me to the bathroom and set me down so I could undress. I didn't have time to feel embarrassed by my nakedness like I usually was. I slid my pants down and stepped into the searing hot water, wiping the tears from my face. They were cold in comparison. He got a towel and picked up one of my legs to begin washing me.

"Soubi, you don't have to—," I started to say, but he was being so gentle, I couldn't resist. It was a pleasing contrast to the brutality of the evening. He had begun softly scrubbing my foot in little circles, taking his time between my toes and down to my heel. His tender hands moved up my calf to stroke it clean, the warm water easing my muscles into relaxation. I gradually allowed my mind to slip into ease as well until he began to move up from my knees to my thigh and—

Something in my head abruptly snapped. I jumped away from him as quickly as possible and clung to the back of the tub, hissing with all the ferocity my body contained. Water leaped out of the tub onto the floor with a noisy splash. My ears flattened against my head as my tail erected itself by knee-jerk reaction. My hair bristled sharply and I trembled from the bone. Even when I could get myself to stop hissing, my entire body was tense, my knees drawn tightly up to my chest. My feet and toes cramped up from how hard they were pressed against the linoleum. My knuckles turned dead white where they clutched the bathtub's rim. I glared at Soubi, not quite remembering why I was angered in the first place. Water swished back and forth, lapping against me, its dull slap the only sound besides my harsh breathing.

And he was simply staring at me, the most heart-breaking look of helplessness painted on his face. His lips were turned into a little frown of discontent that reached his eyes and magnified into misery. It disarmed me completely. I forced, with a great deal of effort, my body to stop shaking and my fingers to release its death grip on the rim. My muscles released from its ready-to-pounce crouch, but I couldn't— now matter how hard I tried—wipe the scowl from my lips. I looked down into the murky water. The reflection gazed back at me with that same hateful look. I pooled scalding water in my hands and splashed my face until my lips turned from a low frown into a nondescript position. I rubbed at my heated cheeks and sighed.

"I'm sorry," I said. It was pointed enough to sum up what I wanted to say, but I had the feeling there was more. Too busily distracted with a disconcerting feeling creeping up my spine, I didn't bother searching for it. "I'll finish washing by myself and meet you in bed," I mumbled.

He stood, silently obeying, and walked away into the dark gloom of his moonlit bedroom. "Soubi—" I called out. He ignored me and kept walking, closing the door behind him.

That might have hurt worse than anything else that night. It was a slap in the face and a punch in the gut at the same time. The closed door felt more like a 5-foot thick wall between us, and I had the deepest feeling that _I_ was responsible for putting it there. I hurried and cleaned myself up, drying myself off and pulling on one of his shirts. I looked in the foggy mirror at my distorted reflection, glad that it was unclear. I combed out my wet hair with my fingers, pulling the loose ones out and placing them in the trash. Sometimes the wet, dark purple strands would get stuck on my moist hands so that I had to shake them to get it off. I busied myself with the science of such a humdrum occurrence, rambling on internally about adhesion and cohesion and all the while absently pulling my fingers through my damp hair.

A siren of alarm rang through my head as two big clumps came out. I cupped both hands to hold them, barely registering what they were. They were ever so slightly covered with blood in some parts, so I put it in the sink to rinse off. My first thought was, _Oh shit, is that my brain?_ but of course it wasn't, because brains aren't hairy. Second thought: _Oh shit, I'm balding._ It could have been from stress or that stuff _he_ gave me, but that was also unlikely. The substance wasn't the consistency of just a clump of hair. They were solid, soft and slightly pointy, hollow on one side like a seashell. I poked at the two heaps sitting in the sink and tried to figure it out. Third thought: _Oh shit, are those my _ears?!

I looked behind me and saw, with a great deal of relief, my tail still attached to my body. I swung it back and forth like I'd done a thousand times before. It stiffened and fell to the floor, limp and lifeless.

I turned back around in a hurry, wanting to get away from the obscene sight immediately. I locked the door in panic, not wanting Soubi to let himself in and… and see me like _this_. Most of the fog had evaporated from the mirror, but not enough for me to see my reflection. I wiped at it, streaks of water sticking together on its surface, and looked at myself.

The scar on my face (the one just below my cheekbone) was still fresh but healing, a pale pink instead of blood red. My eyes were a shade duller than its usual color, and despite the many times I had passed out in the last 24 hours, there were gray circles underneath them. Combined with that and the natural pallor of my skin, I looked sickly. It wasn't abnormal, though. I usually looked awful after running from mom. It had to be from hiking so far from my house to Soubi's or Kio's, especially in the cold. My stringy hair hung lazily on my shoulders, its dark purple hue glistening in the fluorescent light hanging over me, making a faint halo atop my head.

And no ears.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Well, not so much _myself_ as the empty space _above_ me. The space where my ears were supposed to be. I could outline their would-be shape in the void, trace where they were just an hour ago.

Great. I was without ears, plunged into the abhorrent world of adults. What would I do when I got back to my normal life, back to school? I was only a freshman! Now, through a series of fucked-up events, an _earless_ freshman. And what about when I got back home? Mom would surely kill me. No, torture me and _then_ kill me. And Soubi would—no, not Soubi. That wasn't a problem. I just wouldn't tell him. I would never come out of the bathroom. I would never let him see me again. I would have rather jumped out the window than face him.

Dread manifested in the form of nausea rolled through the pit of my stomach. I leaned over the sink and moaned, fearing the continuation of life, dragging in breath unwillingly.

"Okay, Ritsuka," I said to myself out loud. "What are we going to do?" My voice was shaking. I weighed my options, making a mental list. One, death. The easiest, a getaway. Two, isolation. Shut myself off from everyone, especially Soubi. Three, confrontation. Tell Soubi, confide in him, and who knows? Maybe he could help. Maybe he could stitch them back on or something. Anything. At the very least he would be there for me. He would never leave me, for that I was certain. Soubi practically personified chivalry. I could trust him with anything. I could lay out all my shame and hurt and he would mend my wounds.

I found that I wanted to tell him. Desperately. My broken heart was yearning to be put back together, and I knew only he could do it.

But what had happened was so _ugly. _The facts were hideous and real, exciting anger and making the body tremble in disgust. The details made one's very humanity shrink away from the injustice. Sure Soubi knew some of the story, but not enough to fully grasp what an ill tale it truly was. I'd seen how angry he was before, and that was with only the spark notes. I didn't want him to hear further blackness. What would he think of me if he knew? He wouldn't leave me, but he'd think of me differently. Think of me as something unclean. _And_, I added as an unimportant postscript, _it's still his birthday_. Hearing what _he_ had done would be poison.

…but Soubi is resilient. Soubi would be able to handle it. Soubi is strong that way. And about his birthday… well, birthdays are just days. I could tell him. For the sole purpose of relieving the agonizing ache in my heart, for the purpose of removing my pain, I could tell him. So he could comfort me.

I wanted to tell him; I didn't want him to know.

I was so evenly divided. Both choices were viciously warring with each other. Tell or don't tell. My indecision was excruciating. I couldn't make up my mind, so I did the next best thing.

I screamed.

* * *

Phew! I'll admit, my excitement over where this is headed is borderlining sexual. I sincerely hope that it is as pleasing to my readers as it is to me. It's possible that I'm having way too much fun and ignoring the voice of the people. Speaking of ignoring, I never bothered with a disclaimer. I think they're stupid. Of _course_ I'm not Yun Kouga, so of _course_ I don't own Loveless. (snuck it in!) I tried bribing her once, though. The rights for Loveless in return for a um... favor. A hot, wild, sweaty, experimental favor. She said no. Oddly enough, I think she's married. Anywho, in case no one noticed, I turned in this story early. I still have 5 more days until I come home. I'm visiting though and thought "Hey, I should post a chapter before I'm decapitated." You're welcome. I'll have the next chapter by -insert date here-

With dysfunctional love, KC.


	6. Soundless

Alas, chapter six has been completed. I suppose a mere apology for taking so ridiculously long would not suffice. I will strive to find a way to make it up to you all. As long as it doesn't involve my firstborn or Canada. But back to info about the story. It's REALLY angsty. Like, while reading over it, _I _got a little depressed. Made me want to hug a Pringles tube for comfort. So bring out your Pringles tubes, and... Enjoy :)

* * *

It was like falling out the window from the third story.

It was like gravity was pulling down at me even more insistently than usual, and I didn't move to resist. It seemed logical that, since it already _felt_ like I was falling, I'd actually fall. I jumped out of the bathroom window, giving myself up to the mercy of the ground below. And it just so happened that I was indeed on the third floor. It's impossible to say which idiot part of my brain voted for that action to take place, but the region must have had veto power. No sane human being would jump from a window unless their mind was in anarchy. A window flashed by, then a second, then—

Ground. Solid, concrete, unmerciful ground.

My bare feet hit the cement with a thump, making my shins sting and tingle before turning to a dull throb. I walked down the empty street, not sure where I was going. I supposed it didn't really matter. Wherever I went, the people who knew me would undoubtedly shun me. They'd figure out what happened and expose me for the grime I was. If only I could take on another identity, become yet another form of Ritsuka.

"Hello?" a familiar voice called out to me from down the street, breaking through my thoughts. "Ritsuka, is that you?"

I turned to see who was calling me and what they could have possibly wanted. I wasn't in the mood for casual conversation. It irritated me that they were saying my name, asking if I was myself, mostly because I didn't want to be. The voice was forcing me to remember that I was me and there was nothing to be done to change it.

"Hey, kid, what're y— oh wow! What's this?" He patted where my ears were supposed to be, ruffling the hair there. He squatted down to my level, trying to make eye contact, but I looked away.

"Yeah, what do you want?" I said, swatting his hand off of me. He straightened and folded his arms.

"Well, I was on my way to the store 'cause I ran out of chupa, but since I'm here, I'll have an explanation." He stared at me intently, with no sign of giving up the query.

_He really won't leave this alone_, I said internally. _Stubborn as always._ I was torn between blurting out the truth and just running away. I thought it over, formed a clear explanation in my head, one that didn't have all the details but hopefully would sate Kio's curiosity.

But even as I opened my mouth to speak, the words stuck in my throat. They lodged themselves just beyond my tongue, refusing to venture upward and out. The effort of trying to speak made muffled choking sounds.

I figured that the air didn't want the words to pollute its atmosphere, which suited me just fine. I didn't want to say them. I shook my head.

"Fine," he said. "Don't tell me, Ritsuka. But don't think that I don't know." He unfolded his arms and leaned forward, pointing his finger at me. "You and that pervert Soubi! I told him, I _told_ him that it was only a matter of time. Damnit, he should've just come to me!" He placed a hand atop my head and the back of the other on his forehead, leaning back as though in despair. "Poor kid! The pervert hath alas captivated thine heart and seized thy virtue." He shook his head and returned to normal, shrugging off the matter. "Oh well. Would've happened eventually."

"Don't be so bold, Kio," I snapped. "_You're_ the pervert for jumping to inappropriate conclusions." He lifted his eyebrows at my sudden hostility.

"Ritsuka." He squatted down to my level again, tilting his head to the side. "Why do you look so sad?"

I shook my head, my thoughts drifting back to our conversation at his house. "You know why," I said. He nodded solemnly.

"You know... it would hurt less to let it go. I'm not saying toughen up and get over it or anything heartless like that, just… let it go. Everything will be okay."

He seemed so sure of himself, which upset me even more. "You don't know that," I mumbled.

He ruffled my hair again, giving me a warm smile that somehow seemed smug. Like he was in on something I didn't know about. "Of course I know," he said.

Kio began walking again, but I made no move to follow. "Ja," he said, waving but never turning back around.

I began walking the opposite direction, and saw Youji and Natsuo coming my way, arms linked. My heart dropped somewhere around my lower intestines. I didn't think I could stand anymore human contact today, not to mention the fact that they wasted no time quickly pointing out what I really wished they would look over, as I knew they would.

"Ritsuka has no ears," Natsuo stated plainly.

Youji twitched in irritation. "No, he doesn't."

"How did this happen, I wonder." Another statement. I don't think the redhead expected an answer to his non-question, so I kept quiet. He seemed genuinely curious, though, thinking hard over the possible instances.

"Isn't it obvious, Natsuo? A certain someone got the perfect birthday present. I wonder who it was…"

"Yeah, I wonder…" Youji rolled his eyes. I blushed deep red at what he'd insinuated. Even if Kio had said the same thing, I knew he didn't actually _believe _it. These two were being dead serious. Did they really think I'd give my ears away at this age? Most unfortunately, Natsuo saw my reaction as a confession.

"Oh! Ritsuka, you sly bastard!" His face lit up as he smacked me on the shoulder. He beamed like it was the greatest news in the world, and for a second I thought he was going to... _hug_ me or something. Then his smile suddenly evaporated.

"This isn't good, Youji," he said, turning to his companion.

"No, it isn't. We're the only ones left that have ears. I feel left out," he sulked.

"Yeah, me too." Natsuo pulled Youji's arm and began walking away. "I can't believe his were lost first. I'm jealous."

"I thought we'd had more time," Youji said. "We better hurry up. We can wish Soubi a happy birthday later."

They left me, shimmering out of sight in the dense fog that now floated above the ground. I looked about and couldn't see anything. On top of this new, ominous setting, I noticed with dismay that it was cold. Bitterly cold. I shook like an old man, my limbs jerking and muscles spasming in a futile effort to get warm.

When I jumped out of the window, I didn't really have a plan for where I'd go. I just wanted to be somewhere that Soubi was not. I, once again, left without a jacket like an idiot. I had no choice but to go home. I balked at the thought of going back to mom.

Upon walking through the door, I immediately noticed the profound silence that permeated throughout the house. The flood of relief that rushed through me was so intense, I had to close my eyes to savor the feeling. It was like the consistency of my blood had turned from lead and brick to feathers and silk. I exhaled contentedly, walking up the stairs to my room. The stairway felt like it was cushioned by clouds. The euphoria flowing through me chased away the outside chill and warmed my bones with sunshine.

So. I learned somewhere, in a science magazine or textbook or something, that if the sun ever stopped shining, it would take about eight minutes for us, the inhabitants of planet Earth, to know. When my metaphorical sun cut off, it took precisely four seconds. Three seconds for my brain to shut down from shock and reboot itself. One second for my eyes to absorb the image and for my brain to fire off its little neurons to register it.

"M-m-mom!" I stuttered. She sat on my bed holding a photograph of Soubi and me. It was the one from a while ago at the park. I was being piggy-backed, my arms draped loosely around Soubi's strong shoulders, my legs locked tightly around his waist. Even through my terror, my smile in the photo was so wide and goofy and filled with brazen happiness, it was embarrassing. Mother probably had never seen such a smile on the face of her Ritsuka. Probably never will. Yet some man, one she'd never seen before, could light up her son's face in such a way.

"Ritsuka," she said, then paused. She sounded like just saying my name caused her pain. She stood and looked at me through narrowed eyes. "You've been lying to me. For so long, you've been trying to trick me." She took a step closer. I didn't bother taking a step back. I had nowhere to run. "I thought at first you were just acting out because your brother left us. Now I know the truth." Another step closer. "You're just a bad boy, Ritsuka. You're an evil, rotten child, Ritsuka." She reached me where I stood, inches away. I couldn't help but flinch hard as her hand lifted to stroke my head. The soft touches confused me. Was I being loved? Was I being forgiven? Yes, I was a rotten, deceitful child, but was she saying she loved me regardless? _No,_ I answered myself. _No one could love me now._

She stared at me intently, but blankly. The only inkling I had that she was even still conscious was the movement of her arm and the fire in her eyes.

I felt sick. Sicker than sick. No word in any language has been invented to describe how violated I felt. I felt naked, exposed. Despite my recent bath, I felt like the epitome of filth. I inhaled a lungful of dirt and exhaled asbestos. _She knows,_ I said to myself. _She knows that I'm unclean. She knows that I'm tainted._

"Ritsuka," she said. "You've been very naughty." She used the hand that had been stroking me to grab my hair and throw me down. I tumbled in a clumsy heap to the floor. She stood over me, a hand covering her eyes. She took in a series of rough, shaky breaths before looking back at me. Tears streamed down her face. "And naughty boys must be punished!"

She darted over to the cork board on the wall that held all of my favorite pictures and yanked it off. She raised it high above her head and brought it back down on me. The photos fluttered off the board and fell all around me like snow. I curled myself into a ball, tucking my legs under me, making myself a smaller target. This left my head and back to take all of the damage. The wooden border connected with my spine and ribcage, knocking the wind out of me. I groaned and rolled helplessly to the side, leaving my shoulder open for attack. Mother took advantage of the newly exposed skin and brought the board down once again with frightening force.

With a loud crack, the corkboard snapped, one half hitting me in the ear. I could hear my heart beating right in my eardrum. The thumping didn't come close to drowning out mother's yells.

"See what you make me do? It's your fault! All of this is your fault! EVERYTHING! I _knew_ I shouldn't have kept you. I _knew _it!"

Her primary weapon gone, she resorted to using her hands, slapping me repetitively until I grew dizzy, until my cheeks reddened. "I should've cut you out when I had the chance. See what pain you cause me? You're the worst, Ritsuka. You're a failure as a son!" Her open hands turned into closed fists. Instead of punches, she pounded on me like a hammer. Like she wished to reduce me to nothing. To erase me.

"Please," I begged. "Mom, please don't be mad. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry!" Unable to take another blow, I scooted quickly away from her. I stood and held my hands open before me. I prayed that they would magically provide me with a means to get away from here. Maybe a unicorn would materialize in front of me to carry me off. Or a wall would appear to shield me from her enmity.

When nothing came, I closed my eyes, hands and arms lying limp at my sides. I heard a crash to my left and didn't open my eyes. Something whizzed past my head, and still I did not open my eyes. _She must be throwing things at me,_ I thought. I squeezed my eyes tighter to brace myself.

My eyes shot open in horror as a glass struck me in the forehead. Terror and panic blazed hot in every vein. The blood that trickled down my cheek boiled. _She's trying to kill me!_ I screamed inaudibly. _She really is trying to kill me! Oh, God, I don't want to die! I can't die!_

I backed up even further until my back hit the solidity of my balcony door. I cringed into the smooth, cool glass, pressed myself into it, trying to somehow phase right through. Mother threw my wooden chair directly at me, only half of it actually connecting with my flesh. The other half, the legs and seat of it, crashed into the glass door. Glass shards ripped down my back as it shattered loudly. Impossibly loud. My ears rang as my body pulsed with pain. Even mother paused for a fraction of a second, but only that long. The destruction of her house fueled the fire of her anger towards me. Over and over she screamed, "I hate you I hate you I hate you!" Those words were poison.

"Please, mom, don't hate me," I said back. She didn't seem to hear; she just kept screaming. "Please! Mom, I love you! I'm sorry!" I said even louder. I was beyond desperate. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest. What could I say, what could I do, what could I scream that would make her stop saying those abhorrent words? The louder I got the louder she became in response. I could no longer hear my own voice. She went in full rampage mode, knocking over my dresser, my computer, my desk, my bookshelf. I covered my ears in hopes of blocking out the dissonance that now filled my world.

Warm hands covered my own, doing a much better job of quieting everything. Like magic, the world turned down its volume. Mom's violent rampage now only made a few occasional thumps. The hands removed themselves, taking my own with them. Soft lips brushed against my earlobe as a deep voice whispered, "Hear no evil."

As if his words were a spell, mother's image trembled, shivered, swayed, blurred, and finally disappeared right in front of my eyes.

He pulled me in close to his chest, like always not close enough. With my ear pressed against him, I could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. I could hear him breathe in and out, slow and contented. I could hear nothing else.

_Is it okay? _I mouthed, then pressed my lips into a hard line. I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to know. _Soubi, is it okay… that I'm ruined?_

He kissed my forehead, my cheek, my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder, my forearm. The palms of my hands. Each fingertip. A movement rumbled deep in my chest, choking up to my throat when he kissed my eyes and the tip of my nose. It may have been a laugh. Last, he kissed the top of my earless head. My heart swelled to burst at his wordless gesture. Without him saying anything, I already had my reply.

So when he opened his mouth to speak, I silently wished he would change his mind. After his actions, words seemed to be excessive. I wanted him to spend less time talking and more time kissing. It was a much better use for those lips.

He pulled me in even closer, so tightly that I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. His eyes were a mesmerizing blue, scorching and smoldering like flame. He began leaning toward me, his lips in a deliberate aerial path to mine.

_Please,_ I pleaded desperately to no one. _Please, please kiss me._

My eyes slid shut as his lips gently, just barely, touched mine. His arms wrapped securely around my waist. "You haven't been tainted, Ritsuka," he whispered on my lips. "You're flawless." As low as his voice was, his words seemed to echo off of the walls and houses and buildings and roads. He made no move to kiss me again, but I could still feel the moisture of his breath on my lips. Better than a kiss. I had been wrong. His words welded my broken pieces together again.

The warmth of his skin touching mine and the cool autumn air around me made me shiver. Soubi pulled away and grabbed my hand, intertwining his long, slender fingers with mine.

"Let's go home," I said. It didn't make a sound.

* * *

Um... well, I hope ya'll liked this chapter. I worked pretty hard on making it perfect. Speaking of perfection, you know what would make this little fanfic writer just the happiest tadpole in the pond? A beta. Yep... Not that I'm tired of editing my own stories, no of course not, just, I might miss something one day, and then where will we be? The world will remain unchanged, but I would never be able to forgive myself for a grammatical error or spelling mishap...

That being said, please note that this chapter is the second to the last of this particular story. That means one more post and we will be done. I'm a bit hazy on how to end "Lucky" because so much has happened so far in the story. What would give the readers ultimate satisfaction, but at the same time closure? I would not be at all offended if y'all would like to make suggestions. Don't be shy. I don't bite Sunday-Thursday. Who knows, maybe your idea will be orchestrated into chapter seven. And I'm pretty sure it's protocol to acknowledge who it is that helped out with a particular aspect, or else that'd be plagiarism. I wouldn't know. I'm pretty new to this.

Lastly, I must say this. _Please,_ if you have one merciful bone in your body, _do not_ let the words "Ritsuka is OOC" past your lips. Just don't do it. I will cry quarts, and use the saline moisture of my tears to water my grass. That sentence is worse than any other flame a reader can conjure. I did my best in factoring Ritsuka's dynamic personality into the situations I made, and well... I'm just not perfect. I'm no Yun Kouga, and I never will be. (Omg btw, my love for you is endless, miss yun! So hurry up and release volume 9 en englais, d'accord?) Yeah. So constructive criticism... I welcome it. Those brave enough to tell me where I could improve are greatly appreciado. But the accursed double-oh-ce word, I could do without. Thankya!

-KC


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